Talking to God
by Gardener
Summary: During the sentencing phase of Aaron Echolls' trial, various residents of Neptune face crises of faith.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I do not own any of the characters in this story. This story is fictional, and any resemblances between any characters in this story and any real-life persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Italics represent Veronica's voiceovers.

"Do no iniquity in judgment: favor not the poor nor honor the rich; with rightness you shall judge your fellow." Leviticus 19:15

September 5, 2005

"Mr. Penn, Mr. Penn!" the reporters crowded around the limousine, all trying to get a shot of the famous actor, or get a comment from him. He ignored them, striding purposefully up the courthouse steps. "Mr. Penn, do you have a statement?"

Turning at last to face the throng of journalists, he began, "Yes, I have a statement. I'm hear to state my complete faith in the innocence of my friend Aaron Echolls, and my confidence that he will be acquitted today of these ridiculous charges."

"How do you—"

"Do you belie—"

"What makes you so confident?" one reporter managed to shout over the rest.

"I think the people of this country see, and I think the jury will see, that Aaron Echolls is just being persecuted with these trumped-up charges for his outspoken criticism of the foreign policies of the Bush administration. Do you think it's a coincidence that the Kanes happen to be major contributors to right-wing political causes? This is McCarthyism!"

"Is there—"

"Do you believe he's innocent of statutory rape?" this time it was a TV newsman who managed to out-shout the others.

"Isn't the real question whether we want these puritanical inquisitors prying into people's bedrooms?" shot back the actor. "This all started with Ken Sta…." At this point, however, the reporters abandoned him as quickly as they had mobbed him, and he turned in frustration to enter the building.

With one obvious exception, the big-name celebrities who would normally be the center of media attention were ultimately only bit players in this drama. The obvious exception was already inside, the county courthouse and the country jail being the same building. The other star of the show, though, had just arrived.

"Miss Mars!"

"Veronica!"

"Do you have—"

"What do you—"

"No comment. No comment," said Veronica repeatedly as she tried to make her way inside. The reporters, obnoxious as they were, were relatively benign, though. Aaron's fans had turned out in force.

"Tramp!"

"Liar!"

"Free Aaron Echolls!"

"Fry Aaron Echolls!" shouted back one of the pro-conviction protesters.

At this, a group of Aaron's more enthusiastic supporters tried to push their way forward, toward Veronica. They ran into a line of riot-gear-clad deputies and state troopers. Mounted police began herding the crowd back. Four deputies, their faces obscured by the visors on their riot helmets, their batons held at the ready, surrounded her and escorted her inside. Someone threw something, but it went well wide. Finally they reached the safety of the courthouse.

"Well, that was fun," said the deputy in front of her, lifting his visor to reveal Sacks' mustached visage.

"I just hope this isn't the last time I'll enjoy this experience," rejoined Veronica.

"Yeah, right."

_Truth be told, I didn't mean that sarcastically. After almost two weeks, the jury's finally come back today. If they're hung, there'll presumably be a new trial. If they voted guilty, there'll be a sentencing hearing. But if this ends today, it means that Aaron Echolls walks, and I've failed._

"How's it hanging, Sacks?" inquired Veronica.

"Not too bad. I'll tell you, though, Captain McNaughton, the guy commanding the state troopers they brought in to help with crowd control, is ready to turn the fire hoses on those people outside, and Lamb isn't far behind him. You know the way to the courtroom, right, 'cause I need to get back out there."

"I can manage from here."

As Veronica made her way into courtroom one, she saw that the spectators' section was already packed. The entire rear section was filled with reporters and assorted gawkers, although she spied Weevil seated near the back on the right-hand side. At the front, on her left, sitting right behind the defense table, she could see Trina Echolls, surrounded by a number of Aaron's Hollywood pals. On the right, directly behind the prosecutor's table, was seated Celeste Kane, clutching her son's hand. Logan sat on Duncan's right, where he'd been throughout the trial, while Meg was on Celeste's left. Jake, of course, was absent, not being eligible for parole for another few months under the terms of the plea agreement he and Clarence Weidman had made. In the second row, the state's other star witness had saved her a seat between him and Wallace.

As Veronica sat down, her father put his arm around her shoulder. Wallace asked her, "What kept you, V? I was starting to worry you weren't going to make it."

"Miss this? Not on your life."

The foursome in front of them turned, and they exchanged awkward, if not unaffectionate greetings. Even Celeste was polite. Aaron must have noticed her arrival, because she could feel his stare on her from across the courtroom. She glared right back at him. She knew the hate she saw in his eyes was mirrored, if not surpassed, in her own.

Just then, the bailiff cried out "Oyez! Oyez! All rise for the honorable Judge Martin Pilefski." Veronica and Aaron broke off their staring contest and rose with the rest of the courtroom. Finally Pilefski planted his bulk in his chair and gaveled the courtroom to order. Everyone sat back down. Keith offered Veronica his hand, and Veronica squeezed it tightly.

"Mr. Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict?"

_And at last we come to it._

"We have, Your Honor."

_This is a good sign. The jury was out for a while, which might have meant they couldn't come to a decision. If they did reach a verdict, it's probably guilty, since the longer a jury deliberates for, the more likely they are to convict, statistically. Of course, that's what everyone said in the Michael Jackson trial too._

The bailiff brought the paper from the foreman to Pilefski, who read it impassively and handed it back to the bailiff.

_Why does the judge have to see it first? It doesn't change anything, so why can't he find out with the rest of us? This just slows everything down._

"The defendant will rise." Aaron and his team of lawyers got up. Aaron folded his hands in front of him and looked straight ahead steadily.

_Is that supposed to be your solemn face? Did you practice looking confident and hopeful, but without seeming cocky? I guess you've had plenty of practice looking innocent._

"On the first count of the indictment, murder in the first degree, how do you find?"

_He's going to say not guilty, but that's okay. The prosecutor did his best, but even I didn't buy the case for premeditation. The judge allowed the jury to consider murder two or manslaughter instead, though. I could live with murder two, or even manslaughter. Just as long as they say he killed her._

"We find the defendant…guilty."

Veronica threw her head back and let out the breath she had been holding. She hugged her father and then Wallace. Through tear-blurred eyes, she saw Duncan and Logan embracing.

_Of course, they're also slapping each other on the back. Why can't guys ever hug without slapping each other on the back? Why am I even thinking about this right now?_

Aaron had all but collapsed, his face ashen. Trina let out a wail. There was a murmur throughout the courtroom.

"Order," intoned Pilefski, banging his gavel. "On the second count of the indictment, attempted murder, how do you find?"

"Guilty."

_That's for trying to burn me._

"On the third count of the indictment, kidnapping, how do you find?"

"Guilty."

_That's for locking me in that fridge._

"On the fourth count of the indictment, aggravated mayhem, how do you find?"

"Guilty."

_That's for the burn scars all over my father's body._

The litany went on.

_The D.A. really threw the book at Aaron. Good for him._

Finally, it ended. Aaron's lawyers insisted on polling the jury, to no avail. They then moved that the judge reduce the murder conviction to murder two or manslaughter; Pilefski refused.

"The defendant has been convicted of first-degree murder," began Pilefski. "Does the prosecution intend to allege any special circumstances in this case?"

"Yes Your Honor. The defendant killed the victim because she was a witness to a crime, unlawful sex with a minor."

"Very well. We will begin the sentencing hearing tomorrow. The jury is excused for now, although sequestration remains in effect. The defendant is remanded to custody. Court is adjourned."

To be continued….


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: this time, the italics represent Logan's internal monologue.

"And it will be, that he will have transgressed one of these, and he will confess that he had sinned in this manner, and he will bring his transgression-offering to the Lord on account of his sin which had sinned, a female from the flock, sheep or goat, and the priest will expiate him from his sin….and he shall be forgiven." Leviticus 5:5-6, 5:10

"I usually avoid buildings with stained glass."

September 14, 2005

4:21pm

Logan felt a bead of sweat running down off his forehead along his nose. It hung at the tip of his nose, until he blew upwards, knocking it off.

_Why is it so hot in here?_

He stepped further back into the shadows at the back of the room. Not because he believed it would be any cooler out of the light, but because he was desperate to avoid being seen. As far as he could tell, Veronica, standing at the front of the room with her back to him, was still unaware of his presence. He watched her get down on her knees and open her mouth. Another bead of sweat ran down into his right eye, blurring his vision.

3.36pm

When Logan saw her driving off after school that afternoon, he did not think much of it, until he saw Weevil following her on his motorcycle. He hated himself for the fit of suspicion that overtook him just then. A voice in his head kept telling him that Veronica was not like Caitlin or Lilly, but it was drowned out by the sound of rushing blood in his ears. Knowing it would be impossible for her not to notice his X-Terra behind her, he got Dick to lend him the keys to his car and followed her.

As he tailed Veronica and Weevil into the barrio, trying to stay far back enough not to be seen, but not so far back as to lose them, his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

_This can't be happening. She wouldn't do something like this. Not after what she found out about Lilly. It doesn't make any sense. There must be some other explanation. I'm probably just freaking out because of the sentencing hearing._

Waiting through his father's sentencing hearing was, if anything, worse than the trial. The fact that, with school having started again, he could not even attend most of the hearings only made things worse. Instead, he had to read about it in the newspaper like everyone else, or hear Trina drone on about it. Aaron's lawyers were doing their best to argue mitigating circumstances, talking about how Aaron had children who needed him. The worst part was that Logan could not even be called to testify against him. "That he beats you isn't admissible, unless they specifically say something that we can call you as a rebuttal witness to, which is unlikely," the D.A. had told him.

_Great. So he can use me to burnish his image, and there's nothing I can do about it. Some things never change. And now this! How could she do this? _

Logan slammed his fist against the steering wheel.

_No, stop it. This could be about anything. You don't know that she's doing anything. _

_What else could she be doing? This is just how it happens. They always betray us._

_She's not like the others. She loves us._

_She said herself that Lilly loved us too, and look what that one did._

_Shut up._

4:22pm

Logan snapped back to the present. He watched the priest place the communion wafer in Veronica's mouth, and then offer her the wine.

He had laughed out loud with relief when he saw Veronica park across from St. Mary's and go inside, while Weevil continued on his way home, which happened to be located a few blocks further down. Logan had found a parking space himself and followed her in.

_I don't know why I'm so surprised to find her here. She always did take this stuff so seriously._

Sometime in the early eighteenth century, the Écolières and the L'Astaires had come to what would someday be Michigan as fur traders. After the Louisiana Purchase, when the yankees started moving in, Écolière became Echolls, while L'Astaire became Lester. So when Aaron Echolls and Lynn Lester found themselves working together on the set of The Pursuit of Happiness, only to find out that they had so much in common, they both immediately began to consider that the mutual attraction that was so clearly between them might be the beginning of something more serious.

_Just goes to prove you should always stay away from anyone who's at all like yourself._

Although neither of his parents had ever been a particularly devout Catholic, to put it mildly, his mother thought it would be nice for Logan to have his first communion, and so Logan found himself sitting through classes with Father Paulsen over at St. Thomas', on the other side of Neptune, learning all about the spiritual significance of confession and communion.

Mostly, Logan had sulked that Duncan was not there with him, and had proceeded to spend most of the classes goofing off with Dick Casablancas, making jokes about getting buzzed off the communion wine. Veronica, though, had taken it all very seriously; she had always had questions for Father Paulsen, and had even taken notes. He could still remember the white dress she had worn when the day came.

"Logan, what are you doing here?" she must have seen him, and come over to talk to him. She lay her hand gently on his elbow.

"Nothing. I just—I followed you here." He had his arms folded across his chest, his eyes downcast.

"Why did you follow me?" she sounded more concerned than anything else. He had been afraid she would be angry with him.

_Like she doesn't have every right to be angry with us. If she knew the real reason we followed her…._

"I wanted to see what you were up to. You've been so quiet lately, I just wanted to know what was going on in your head."

_That's not a lie. Of course, we don't ever actually lie to her; we just tend to leave things out._

"Well now you know. Confession. It's good for the soul."

"Like you have any sins to confess."

"My dear boy, you have no idea."

"So when did you start coming here? I mean, I know I haven't been there in a long time, but I remember we both used to go to St. Thomas'."

"I stopped going to St. Thomas' a long time ago."

"After…."

"After."

St. Thomas' was the neo-gothic church over in 90909, frequented by, or perhaps more precisely, available for the nouveau riches like the Echollses, and the old Spaniard families that still lived in California like the Casablancases. With its polished granite, stained glass, velvet-cushioned pews, and mahogany trim, it let its parishioners know that they were different from their domestic servants, even if they technically shared their faith. St. Mary's, on the other hand, was a small adobe church frequented mostly by those servants and their families.

"Truth is, I like this place better anyway. It feels more real. They still have mass in Latin here, and they even burn incense," Veronica went on.

"Of course they do. So why'd you come here this afternoon, anyway? On a Wednesday, I mean."

"It's not just open on Sundays. I guess I just felt the need, though. With everything that's going on…."

"The sentencing hearing."

"Exactly."

"So do you feel more in touch with God now?"

"Yes, I do."

"Must be nice."

"You could try it."

"I seem to recall that you have to confess before you can take communion."

"So you were paying attention! I thought you and Dick were just thinking about how blasted you could get off the wine."

"Yeah, well, I'm worried that if I walk into that booth, I'll never get out in this lifetime."

"You don't have to be afraid. You only think it's going to hurt."

"'There is nothing either good or bad but that thinking makes it so.'"

"Your father's not a ghost yet, sweet prince."

"Can't come a moment too soon. Alright, I'm going in. Wish me luck."

"Good luck."

Logan sat down in the confessional booth.

"Bless me Father, for I have a sinned. It has been, well, let's just say it's been a long time since my last confession."

"Go ahead."

7:06pm

"Is that the last of it?"

"That I can remember."

"It's not unimpressive, but I have heard worse."

"I'll try to do better."

"Don't be a smart aleck. I'm trying to tell you something important, which is that God has heard, and forgiven, much worse."

"So let's hear it."

"I want you to say ten 'Our Fathers' and ten 'Hail Marys.'"

"That's it?"

"I'm just getting warmed up. I also want you to start volunteering regularly at a homeless shelter, without making it a media event."

"Okay."

"And I want you to apologize to your sister, and tell her that you understand why she's supporting your father, even if you don't agree with her. And try to be a better brother to her in the future."

"Sure."

"And you have to apologize to your English teacher."

"I already did that."

"Yes, but this time I want you to mean it. I also want you to apologize to this girl whom you ostracized after she cheated on you with the biker."

"What? Are you kidding?"

"No, I am not. I want you to apologize, first and foremost, for fornicating with her."

"She wasn't exactly a blushing virgin, you know."

"Let's keep the focus on your sins for now. I also want you to apologize to her for ostracizing her from all her friends, and to tell her you forgive her for cheating on you."

"Fine. Is that all?"

"No. I want you to apologize to all the women you've fornicated with."

"All of them? Does that include the stripper in Tijuana?"

"Especially the stripper in Tijuana. I also want you to apologize to this other girl, the one you're dating now. First, for all the terrible calumnies you spread about her."

"Of course."

"Then I want you to go to every person you told something bad about her, and tell them that you were lying."

"All of them? Do you have any idea how many of them there are?"

"Not so many that you couldn't lie to them all in the first place. And I also want you to tell her the real reason you followed her here today."

"Look, I'm sorry I got so jealous, but what with everything that's happened—"

"Did I mention that I also want you to stop making excuses? But while we're on the subject, I want you to forgive this other girl, the dead one, for cheating on you. And also, apologize to the girl you kissed at that party."

"Okay."

"You also need to forgive your mother for abandoning you the way she did."

"Wait a second, she did commit suicide you know. Doesn't the church teach that—"

"Focus! Your sins!"

"Right."

"And you need to apologize to your girlfriend for not being there for her when her best friend was murdered."

"I already did that, and I meant it."

"Do it again anyway. It'll help you warm up for the rest."

"Fine."

"Lastly, you need to tell your best friend that you drugged him."

"No, I can't do that. He'll never forgive me."

"He certainly won't forgive you if you don't ever apologize."

"It's unforgivable! He'll hate me forever!"

"It's bad, but nothing is unforgivable. He may hate you for a long time, but not forever. If you don't apologize though, you might be damned forever."

"I can't do all this."

"You can."

"I'm not strong enough."

"God will be with you, to give you strength."

"Alright, I'll try."

"That is all any of us can do, I suppose. Very well. I absolve you of…."

7:27pm

Logan emerged from the confessional booth, his face grey and soaked with sweat.

"Logan, are you alright? You look terrible."

"I feel worse. I can't believe I survived that."

"I'm sorry. Maybe you should have gone to St. Thomas'; Father Santiago is a little, well, stricter than Father Paulsen."

"No, I'm a big boy now. Best to just take my medicine. Look, Veronica, there's something I need to tell you."

"You want to confess more? I would have thought you'd had enough by now."

"I'm serious. I need to tell you why I really followed you here today." He dropped to his knees at her feet.

"Okay."

"When I saw you leaving school, and I saw Weevil following behind you—"

"Oh, Logan—"

"I just felt, I don't know, like I was watching a movie I had seen before, and I knew that it ended badly, and I just went crazy."

"Logan, I'd never cheat on you. It's important to me that you know that."

"That's what I kept trying to tell myself. And I just wouldn't listen. And, look, Veronica, I can't help think that maybe I'm not right for you."

"Maybe you should let me be the judge of that."

"I think it might dangerous."

"Dangerous? For whom?"

"For you. Veronica, I can't help think that maybe I'm like him. Like my father."

"Logan, look at me, and listen." She put her hand under his chin and lifted his face to hers. "You are like your father."

"Then you definitely shouldn't be with me."

"That doesn't mean you are your father. You can choose to be different. You don't have to do what he did, anymore than I have to be a drunk, a thief, or an adulteress."

"That's different. You have your father."

"Logan." She got down on her knees to face him, and looked him in the eye. "You have me. I love you, and I believe in you." With that, she embraced him as he wept in her arms.

To be continued….


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry to sound like a broken record, but, once again, italics represent the internal monologue of the main character of this interlude. I also want to mention that I was inspired to write this chapter in large part by Lila2's wonderful "All the King's Horses." I loved the basically sympathetic view that story took of the inner life of a generally unsympathetic and relatively minor character, so I thought I would try something similar with Shelly Pomroy. I hope everyone likes it, but, like it or hate it, I hope you will let me know what you think of it.

"Where were you when I founded the earth?" Job 38:4

September 27, 2005

2:33am

Shelly Pomroy awoke suddenly, panting for breath. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she nonetheless pulled the blankets tighter around herself. When that brought her no relief from the trembling, she pulled one of her extra pillows to her chest and squeezed it tightly. Rolling onto her side as she pulled her legs up into the fetal position, she bit down on the pillow and sealed her eyelids as tightly as she could, trying to keep the tears in and the memories of the nightmare out.

_Nightmare? Ha. The dreams are wonderful. I wake to the nightmare._

Shelly had known, or at any rate had feared that she would have the dream again tonight. She had had gym class that afternoon, and had been staring up at the ceiling tiles as she changed back into her regular clothes. Then, when she was hurrying out of the girls' locker room, she had all but run right into that girl.

_Oh God! Why did you make me like this?_

When the Grace of Alais was proclaimed in 1629, the Pomroys had been among those Huguenots who decided that it would be better not to remain in France, and so embarked from La Rochelle for the New World. By the time Shelly's grandparents set out from New Rochelle in upstate New York for southern California after the War, their Protestant devotion had dimmed considerably. Perhaps unsurprisingly then, Shelly had learned more about Calvinism when studying the Reformation in history class than she had growing up.

_Why do I keep having this same dream?_

Shelly had not kept count of how many times she had awoken from this same dream, but she remembered exactly the first time it had happened: on December 8, 2003. She had woken up on the couch in her living room, just before 12:30 in the afternoon.

_Please God, take it away from me._

Since then, she had been praying every night that it would stop. She was not sure if her prayers would do any good, of course. As far as she understood the concept of predestination, God had already decided her fate, even before she was born. When Mrs. Linster, her tenth grade history teacher, had been explaining Weber's theory that Calvinism had helped produce the industrial revolution, she remembered that Duncan Kane had raised his hand and asked, "But wouldn't the belief in predestination have produced a sense of fatalism and futility?" Mrs. Linster had gone on to explain that the Calvinists had believed that, while it was impossible to achieve salvation through good works, the doing of good works was itself a sign that one had been predestined for salvation. They had further believed, Mrs. Linster went on, that material success was also a sign that one had been predestined to be saved.

_I wonder if that means Mom and Dad are going to heaven? They're pretty successful. On the other hand, they have a daughter like me, and it's a good bet that I'm not one of the elect. _

At her party, Shelly had not been drunk. Oh, she had had a few drinks, but although she feigned more tipsiness than she had actually felt, she had been sober enough. She knew what she was doing. She had pretended, then and afterwards, that it was just for a laugh. That she was just doing it to amuse all the boys who had gathered around to watch. She had laughed right along with Casey, Sean, Dick, and Beaver. She had pretended it was all just part of the joke at the expense of Veronica Mars, the arkie who thought she was good enough to belong with them.

_Why God? Why make me just to damn me?_

In her dreams, though, there was no laughing and catcalling. The boys were not even there at all, not to laugh, and not to make Veronica half-blind with vodka. In Shelly's dreams, Veronica did not need to be dosed with alcohol, and did not struggle and try to escape. And when she put her hands on Shelly, it was not to try to push her away.

_I'm sorry! I know it was wrong, and I swear I'll never do it again! Just please make it stop._

It was usually around this time, right after Shelly had sworn that she would never kiss another girl again, an oath she had faithfully kept, that Shelly fantasized about just telling everyone the truth. She wondered if she just came out to everyone, whether that would make it easier.

_Oh sure, I can get my hair cut short and get one of those pink triangle pins to put on my book-bag. That'll go over real well with all my friends. Ha! If you thought Veronica was ostracized, just wait._

And it was usually then, when Shelly confronted the fact that she was too afraid to tell the truth, that she thought about sneaking into her parents' bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet, and downing every anti-depressant and sleep-aid she could find all at once. And then she confronted the fact that she was too afraid even to take the easy way out. And so, as she always did, she cried herself back to sleep, praying that somehow things would change.

_Oh God, please make it stop_….


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks again to all my reviewers. I'm glad you all seem to be enjoying this story so far. Mr. Doomvomit, I'd like to say in response to your comment that I'm doing my best to portray all the religions I'm writing about in this story both honestly and respectfully, and I'm glad you think I'm succeeding in that, and I can only hope that that will be the consensus opinion of all my readers. The italics are Duncan's voiceovers this time.

A/N on translation: The memorial prayer at the end of this story is written in somewhat poetic language, which is always difficult to translate. As such, I've opted for a more figurative translation than I've used for the biblical passages.

A/N on pronunciation: The "ai" in "Lailah" is pronounced like in "aisle," not like in "paid." All "o"s (not including those used in English words, obviously) are long, as in "row," not as in "rob."

"Absalom did not speak with Amnon for evil or for good, for Absalom hated Amnon on account of the fact that he had violated Tamar his sister." 2 Samuel 13:22

October 5, 2005

10:12am

"Ya'amod Daniel ben Ya'aqov Hakohen."

Duncan arose from his seat and began the walk toward the lectern.

_Just one more thing I'm expected to do because of who my father is._

When Duncan and Lilly had been younger, Duncan had often wondered why, on the rare occasions that they attended services, their father was always called to bless the first reading. Their mother had explained that even though their congregation was a modern, liberal, Reform one, it still preserved some of the ancient traditions, among which was included that a kohen should always be called first, and since their congregation was also a small one, Jake Kane, whose great-grandfather had been Kahn before Ellis Island, was the only one who qualified.

"It's an honor," Celeste had concluded at the time, as if that explained everything. His mother had always thought honor was very important.

At the time, Duncan had understood even less than he did now how it could be an honor for them just because of who their ancestors had been, but, when he was nine he had been more interested in more recent famous relatives.

"Is it true we're related to the guy who created Batman?" Duncan had breathlessly asked his father.

"Well, I guess technically we are, but I think you'd have to go back at least a few centuries to find the connection," Jake had replied with a smile as he ruffled his son's hair. "Maybe even a few millennia."

It was only when they were thirteen that Lilly had told him that the only reason their congregation had brought back the tradition anyway was because Celeste, who was, after all, the temple's largest donor, had insisted. Their mother had always thought honor was very important.

Jake Kane was in prison now, having pled guilty to conspiracy and three counts of falsifying evidence. It was that dishonorable little twist of fate that found Duncan ascending to the lectern now.

Duncan recited the blessing, and stood and listened as the reader began to recite the story of how God tested Abraham by calling upon him to sacrifice his son Isaac.

_Abraham's faith was so strong, he didn't hesitate. Too bad my father had no faith. No faith that if he just told the truth, Keith wouldn't just assume that I had done it. No faith in me, that I could never do such a thing. And certainly no faith in God. _

The reader finished, and Duncan recited the concluding blessing.

"Ya'amod Alon ben Gavriel Halevi."

Duncan moved off to the side of the lectern as his physician walked up.

"Happy New Year," whispered Dr. Levine with a warm smile as he shook Duncan's hand.

_I'm so glad you could make it. My father was careful to keep your name out of it. Never revealed just how he found out that Abel Koontz had stomach cancer. "You don't leave people who have helped you, been loyal to you, just twisting in the wind, Duncan." What is the going rate on your patients' privacy, anyway?_

"Happy New Year," answered Duncan. Then Levine recited the blessing. When the second reading was completed and Levine had recited the concluding blessing, Duncan shook hands with the reader and with Levine again, and started back to his seat.

On his way back, he had to stop repeatedly to shake all the hands that were extended to him.

"Happy New Year, Mr. Sopher."

"Happy New Year, Mr. Bloom."

He hesitated only once, and even then, only for a moment.

"Happy New Year, Duncan."

_Ah, Harvey Greenblatt, how are you? So sorry to see your wife Monica couldn't make it this year. I hope nothing's wrong between you two. I can only imagine what a stressful time this must be for you, what with losing your biggest client and all. Still, I'm sure you'll bounce back; you're very good at what you do. Who knows? Without you, Aaron might never have become famous in the first place, and Lilly probably would never have even heard of him._

"Happy New Year, Mr. Greenblatt."

_Blaming Aaron's agent. That's big of you. While we're at it, maybe we can go egg the car of the guy who did the lighting in Breaking Point. I mean, Lilly always loved that movie, and maybe if the lighting hadn't flattered Aaron's features so much, she wouldn't have been so attracted to him._

Finally Duncan got back to his seat.

"You did very well, sweetie."

_Or maybe we can blame Mom and Dad. Hey, it's not like the apple fell all that far from the tree, seeing as how Dad wasn't exactly the past-master of keeping it in his pants either, at least not when it came to Lianne Mars. Or maybe if both of them had given Lilly more attention and approval, she wouldn't have decided to sleep with the famous movie star. Or maybe it was the opposite. Maybe they spoiled us, and Lilly never learned that there are some things you just don't do. Like your boyfriend's Dad._

"Thanks Mom."

_Or maybe I should blame myself. Maybe I could have looked out for Lilly more. Or maybe if I'd just gotten home sooner. I didn't have to spend all that time hanging out after soccer that day. Or maybe I doomed her long before then. They say girls who have twin brothers get exposed to much more testosterone in the womb than normal; it changes their whole brain structure, tends to make them more promiscuous later in life. Maybe if I'd never existed, she wouldn't have been like she was._

Finally, the reading concluded with how God substituted a ram for Isaac, and rewarded Abraham for his faith by renewing his promise to him and to Isaac and to all their descendants after them. Duncan stood as the scroll was rolled back up and carried back to the ark.

_Or maybe it's Lilly's own fault. I mean, let's face it. Aaron's a monster, and sure, he's to blame for all this. But none of this would ever have happened if Lilly hadn't slept with him. What kind of teenage girl has sex with a man old enough to be her father? Her father's best friend, no less. Who's married. And the father of her boyfriend. How could you be such a slut, Lilly? What did Lynn of all people ever do to you, that you couldn't stay away from her husband? And could you have hated Logan that much? I mean, he kissed another girl. You screwed his father. Or did you even think about anyone else at all? Did you ever think about anyone besides yourself? Do you care at all about how much you've hurt everyone who loved you?_

Duncan listened with the rest of the congregation as Cantor Loomis blew the shofar.

_I'm being stupid. Why do we always wait until after someone's dead to say all the things we should have said to her when she was alive?_

1:16pm

With the morning service finally having concluded, the worshippers began to file outside. Standing next to his mother on the synagogue steps as Celeste shook hands with Rabbi Wilder, Duncan spotted an unmistakable yellow X-Terra parked on the other side of the street.

"Would you excuse me for a moment Mom?"

"Of course, honey."

As Duncan crossed the street, he saw Logan standing there with his arms folded in front of him, his eyes downcast. Veronica stood next to him with her hand reassuringly on his arm.

"Hey DK. Happy new year."

"Happy new year, Duncan."

"Thanks guys. What's going on? What are you doing here?"

"Duncan, there's something I need to tell you." Logan shifted his gaze to either side, unable to meet Duncan's face.

"What's up? Is it about the sentencing hearing? Is the jury back?"

"No, nothing like that. Do you, uh, do you remember Shelly Pomroy's party two years ago?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Do you remember how Veronica was passed out on the chaise-lounge by the pool, and me and some of the guys were, well…."

"Yeah?"

"Well, remember, how I brought you that drink and apologized?"

"Right. Why?"

"Well, I had, uh, sort of spiked that drink with GHB."

Duncan decked him.

"Duncan, no!" shouted Veronica. Many of the people still standing around across the street were staring. Celeste began to hurry over.

"No, no, it's alright," Logan said loudly as he got to his feet, one hand held up in front of him. "I deserved that."

"You deserve a lot worse! Do you have any idea what you did to me? To Veronica?" Duncan was shouting.

"Yes. I know all about it. She told me everything that happened."

Standing just behind and to one side of Logan, Veronica shook her head and mouthed "not everything" to Duncan, seeing how white he had just gone.

"Veronica, you know what he did. You should be as mad as I am. More!"

"He didn't know what was going to happen, Duncan; it's not like he planned it."

"I didn't know, I swear. I just wanted you to relax a little, enjoy yourself. You hadn't been yourself since, well, you know. Believe me, if I had had any idea…."

"Alright, okay." Duncan let out a long sigh. "I won't apologize for slugging you, because you're right that you deserved it, but I guess if Veronica can forgive both of us for what happened that night, I should forgive you too."

"Thanks, man." Logan extended his hand. Duncan shook it, but then pulled Logan in for a hug; they slapped each other on the back as they embraced."

"Man, that's some right hook you've got there, man," joked Logan, rubbing his cheek after they had separated. "And I would know; I've been by slugged by the best."

"And the worst."

"Too true."

"Come on, guys. My mom and I are going home for lunch. Why don't you come with us?"

"I don't know," answered Veronica. "I'm not sure your mother would really want us there."

"Yeah, well, that's one of the whole host of subjects on which I've lost all interest in my parents' opinions."

6:19pm

Finally, with the afternoon service having finished as twilight descended outside, the memorial service began. Duncan bowed his head, and trembling, began in a whisper:

"O God, full of mercy, who dwells on high, grant serene repose under the wings of your presence to the soul of Lailah Shoshannah bat Esther….In the garden of Eden let her rest…." Tears were streaming down Duncan's face. "O Master of mercies, gather in her soul to eternal life under the shelter of Your wings, and grant her her portion with the Lord, and let her rest in peace, and let us say amen." Duncan exhaled slowly.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Italics equal internal monologue. This chapter overlaps with chapter 2, but I've tried to keep the repetition to a minimum. And I know I've said it before, but thanks again to everyone who's commented on this story. I'm a total feedback junkie, and you keep me from getting the shakes.

"This is a brand rescued from the fire." Zechariah 3:2

"Well, we're all entitled to our own religions, Veronica."

September 14, 2005

3:22pm

Veronica sat near the back of her AP Physics class, struggling to keep her eyes open.

_Why does he have to explain kinematics again? We learned this in regular physics. Mr. Friedman teaches regular physics, so he knows that we already know it. Why should we repeat it in AP physics?_

In truth, Friedman was not a bad teacher. In fact, had Veronica been pressed on the issue, she would have had to concede that he was one of the teachers she despised the least amongst Neptune High's faculty. But between tailing Mrs. Caroline Moore to the Camelot and the stress of Aaron Echolls' sentencing hearing, Veronica had not been getting a lot of sleep lately.

_Why am I still worrying about this? I should be able to relax. Worst-case scenario, Aaron doesn't get the death penalty, but he still spends the rest of his life in prison. I know I'll be satisfied with that. I told Miss James I'd "find closure" when Lilly's killer was rotting away in prison, and I meant it. Getting him executed is just icing on the cake. So what's the matter with you, V?_

For the last five nights, Veronica had lain awake in bed, reliving her testimony at the sentencing hearing. The D.A., in deference to the fact that Veronica had had to start school again, had done his best to make life easy for her by calling her to the stand first. She'd been questioned for four days straight by the both the prosecution and the defense on various potentially aggravating or mitigating circumstances surrounding Aaron's crimes.

_The jury already heard me give the same answers to the same questions during the fact-finding phase of the trial. Why did we need to go over it all again? _

Since her testimony had concluded last Friday, however, Veronica had been turning it over in her mind, struggling to see if she's slipped up somewhere, left something out, or accidentally added something, anything that might incline the jury toward mercy.

_What if I wasn't good enough on the stand? What if my testimony would have done more good coming later? Why did the D.A. have to care about my well-being? His job is to put Aaron Echolls in an urn, not to worry about my welfare. If I get justice for Lilly, then any sacrifice is cheap. Not that being absent from this place is what I'd call a sacrifice._

The bell rang. Veronica shoved her books into her bag and headed for the parking lot.

_Free at last. I have got to get out of here._

At 5:30, Theodore Moore, Caroline's husband, would be stopping by the office to pick up the evidence that would get him out of his prenuptial agreement. Her father would probably only be getting back around then also, since he would probably be in court all day, so Veronica had nowhere to be for the next two hours. Just as she got to her car, Veronica decided that she did need to be somewhere, and drove off.

_I never told my dad where I've been going every Sunday morning since December 14, 2003. It's not that I think he'd disapprove, even though he and Mom were never very religious. It's just that that's the same week I hacked off all my hair. The same week I took seventeen showers. How Dad was able to ignore what that meant, I don't know. Maybe he just didn't want to see it, but he's much too good a detective to ignore three textbook signs all at once._

3:54pm

Veronica parked her car in front of St. Mary's and walked inside. But for herself and Fr. Santiago, the church was of course empty in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon.

"Well, Veronica Mars, good afternoon. What brings you here today?"

"I don't know exactly. I've just been feeling…ill at ease, I guess."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Talking about my feelings won't make them better."

The priest arched an eyebrow at her and headed over to the confessional booth. "Confess. It's good for the soul."

"Got me there," replied Veronica with a bit of a grimace as she followed him over to the side of the church.

3:59pm

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been three days since my last confession."

"Go ahead"

"I've had, I don't know, twenty impure thoughts."

"You didn't act on them, I hope."

"Not with another person."

"How many times?"

"Just once."

"Is that all?"

"I guess."

"Look, Veronica, you know you're always welcome here at any time, but I can't help but feeling that you haven't told me what is keeping you up nights."

"Who says anything's keeping me up nights?"

"The circles under your eyes say it. Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

"I told you before, I don't know what's wrong. I should be happy. Aaron Echolls is going to pay for what he did, even if he doesn't get the death penalty."

"Veronica, you know the Church teaches that the death penalty is wrong."

"'Here stand I. I can no other.'"

"Alright, so if you're not bothered by the fact that you could be sending a man to his death, is it possible that you're upset over the fact that you could be making your boyfriend an orphan?"

"No, I feel pretty good about that, actually."

"Well, look, I hate to bring this up, but is it possible you're wondering about what your friend did?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know what you went through to get justice for your friend, and then you found out what she was doing with Aaron, and if I were you, I'd be pretty angry with her."

"I know what you're thinking, but that's not it. I know what Lilly did was wrong, but I love her anyway, and I know she's in heaven now. I'd have gladly given more than I did to get justice for her. I still might have to, but I don't care how high the cost grows."

"Okay."

The two of them were silent for several moments.

"Veronica, is it possible that that's what's bothering you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you've been on this mission for justice for your friend, and I know, well no, I can't say I know what you've been through, but I do have some inkling, and I know that it's this mission of yours that's been giving you the strength to go on. And I wonder if now that you've come almost to the end, you're wondering what will give meaning to your life when it's over."

Veronica was silent for almost a full minute. When she finally did speak, her voice was shaking.

"What's the point of going on? I've done what I set out to do. Why can't I just rest?"

"Veronica, what I'm about to say may be a blessing or a curse, I don't know. What I suspect though, is that, whatever you think now, there is a reason you are still here. I have a feeling that God is not finished with you."

"Thank you Father. Although I'm not sure whether that's exactly a blessing either."

"Well, I only hope it helps somewhat. Why don't I assign you your penance, and then you can take Communion."

4:22pm

Veronica rose to her feet. When she turned to leave, she saw Logan skulking in the back of the Church.

"Logan, what are you doing here?"

"Nothing. I just—I followed you here." He had his arms folded across his chest, his eyes downcast.

"Why did you follow me?"

"I wanted to see what you were up to. You've been so quiet lately, I just wanted to know what was going on in your head."

_What's going in my head? I'd like to know the same thing about you._

"Well now you know. Confession. It's good for the soul."

"Like you have any sins to confess."

_Ha. Coming from the boy who's responsible for the eight 'Hail Marys' and six 'Our Fathers' I have to say, that's a laugh._

"My dear boy, you have no idea."

"So when did you start coming here? I mean, I know I haven't been there in a long time, but I remember we both used to go to St. Thomas'."

_I haven't been to St. Thomas' since I was a kid Logan._

"I stopped going to St. Thomas' a long time ago."

"After…."

"After."

_And when I needed to reconnect after what happened at Shelly's, it's not like I was going to go back there._

7:26pm

Veronica sat in one of the pews, waiting for Logan to emerge. She had just gotten off the phone with her father for the second time that evening. She had called him right after five to let him know that she would not be home until later, and that the Moore file was in his desk drawer. She had called him again just to let him know that she was alright. She turned again to look at the confessional booth.

_Wow. I know he hasn't been in a while, and he's certainly been a naughty boy, but he's really been in there a long time._

At last, Logan staggered out, ashen-faced.

"Logan, are you alright? You look terrible."

"I feel worse. I can't believe I survived that."

"I'm sorry. Maybe you should have gone to St. Thomas'; Father Santiago is a little, well, stricter than Father Paulsen."

"No, I'm a big boy now. Best to just take my medicine. Look, Veronica, there's something I need to tell you…."

"Veronica, I can't help think that maybe I'm like him. Like my father."

_Oh God, what do I tell him? How can I get through to him? Whatever you do V, tell him the truth._

"Logan, look at me, and listen." She put her hand under his chin and lifted his face to hers. "You are like your father."

"Then you definitely shouldn't be with me."

"That doesn't mean you are your father. You can choose to be different. You don't have to do what he did, anymore than I have to be a drunk, a thief, or an adulteress."

"That's different. You have your father."

"Logan." She got down on her knees to face him, and looked him in the eye. "You have me. I love you, and I believe in you." With that, she embraced him as he wept in her arms.

To be concluded….


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So, guess what italics represent. Anyway, I would just like to reiterate that this story is fictional, and any resemblances between characters in this story and any real-life persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Also, while I am well aware that in real life, death-row inmates in California are more likely to pass away from old age than to actually be executed by the Department of Corrections, that doesn't make for good drama, so I took some artistic license. Also, while this story is overall rated T, I think this chapter should probably have an M rating; I'm not going to change the rating for the whole story, but I wanted everyone to be forewarned. I would also like to give another thank you to all my reviewers; you guys are the best. And now, I know you've all been waiting patiently for this one. Here it comes:

"And those remaining will hear and will fear and will not still continue to do such an evil thing in your midst. And your eye shall not pity: a life for a life, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a hand for a hand, a foot for a foot." Deuteronomy 19:20-21

"Maybe you missed that 'eye-for-an-eye' section in your Bible."

November 1, 2005

2:46pm

Warden Jill Brown walked through the hall of the condemned prisoner unit of San Quentin, flanked by two guards. She ran her hand through her short reddish-brown hair. This was definitely the part of her job she liked the least. Finally she arrived at her destination. Although San Quentin had in its history housed many notorious criminals, few if any even approached the fame of the occupant of this cell.

"Inmate Echolls."

"Warden Brown. What can I do for you?"

"I'm sure your lawyers have informed you that the Supreme Court of the United States has refused to hear your appeal."

"Yes, just like they informed me that the State Supreme Court had upheld my death sentence. I really don't know what I'm paying these people for."

"You're to be executed this Thursday."

"I guess this is good-bye then."

"There are still some decisions you have to make before then."

"Like what?"

"How you want to be executed, for one."

"Firing squad."

"I'm afraid that's not an option."

"Well, what are my choices?"

"Lethal injection or the gas chamber."

"They're both so appealing, what if I can't make up my mind?"

"Then it's automatically lethal injection."

"The gas chamber then."

_Anything to inconvenience you bastards at least a little._

"You're also entitled to a last meal."

"Can I order out? The food here isn't exactly the best I've ever had."

"No, you can't order out, but you can have whatever you want from the kitchen here."

"What do you recommend?"

"The steak is your best bet. With mashed potatoes and gravy. Apple pie is the best dessert."

"Sounds good. But I want the steak rare. And don't skimp on the gravy. Any chance of getting a beer to go with that?"

"Sure."

"Is that all, then?"

"No. The law also entitles you to have one or two 'ministers of the gospel' present at the execution. If you like, you can also meet privately with one beforehand. We have a chaplain's service here, or we can have someone brought in, if you want."

"I'd like to see Father Paulsen from St. Thomas' church in Neptune, but I'm not sure I want him at the main event."

"We'll ask him to come, then. You can also have up to five family members present."

"No. I won't put my children through that. They've been through enough."

"Well, I'm required by law to invite twelve 'upstanding citizens' to witness the execution. Certain acquaintances of yours from Neptune have requested to be among the twelve."

"Are we playing 'Guess Who'?"

"No need. Jake Kane is one of them."

"Doesn't 'upstanding citizen' imply someone who's not in prison himself?"

"He was paroled last week. The rest of the Kanes will be there too. As will Veronica Mars."

_Figures that vindictive cunt would want to be in at the kill. She's probably mad they won't let her do it herself. Little dyke had to have been queer for Lilly. Probably only went with Duncan to get close to her. Probably got involved with Logan just to get me. Still, hot little number if you ignore her personality. I would have loved to have nailed the bitch._

"No surprises there."

_On second thought, no, I wouldn't want to get frostbite._

"Well, I'll be seeing you in two days then."

"Oh, I can't wait."

The warden turned on her heel and headed back toward her office.

November 2, 2005

3:14pm

Fr. Paulsen walked past the various cells of San Quentin's death row, trying to avoid the stares of the various inmates he passed. When he accidentally met the cold gaze of one man, he shuddered visibly, and reflexively tugged at his white collar. When he reached Aaron Echolls' cell, the guard who had accompanied him called out for the cell to be opened. Paulsen walked in. The cell door slammed shut behind him.

"Hello Aaron."

"Eric. Please have a seat," began Aaron pleasantly enough, but without rising to greet his guest. "I'm sorry I can't offer you better hospitality, but…." Aaron trailed off.

"No, of course. It's been a long time. I guess it would be silly to ask how you're doing." When Aaron did not respond, he continued. "So, this," he said gesturing vaguely upwards to indicate the cell and the prison, "is never something I've been called on to do before, but I take it you wanted to confess…."

_What, you think I owe anyone an apology for my life? Or what, I'll go to hell? Please, save those fairytales for the weak-minded sheep. _

"Actually, I wanted to ask you how Logan's doing. He hasn't come to visit me at all, not that I can really blame him, but the last time Trina was here, she mentioned that he had started going to church again."

"Yes, that's right," said Paulsen, brightening. "He's been a regular at Sunday Mass at St. Thomas' for the last seven weeks."

_I wonder if that's his mother's influence. Lynn always was pampering the boy, and she always had a soft spot for that sort of nonsense. It's too bad though. I tried so hard to toughen him up, teach him to be a man. I wonder if he's taking refuge in this nonsense just to spite me._

"Did he mention anything about why he started going? Trina wasn't able to tell me," asked Aaron, feigning fatherly inquisitiveness.

"Oh, yes," answered Paulsen eagerly. "I mean, he never told me directly, but I gathered it's largely been the influence of his girlfr—" Paulsen stopped suddenly, realizing what he had just said.

"Veronica Mars? Don't worry about it," said Aaron easily, shrugging off Paulsen's sudden awkwardness with a reassuring wave of his hand. "It's no big deal."

"What's strange is that she doesn't come herself."

_Strange? It makes perfect sense. Of course that castrating bitch would want Logan to go. She wants to keep him a docile little boy she can control. Now Lilly, there was a girl who appreciated a real man._

"It's not so strange," answered Aaron thoughtfully. "I think I finally understand her, now, actually."

"Well, I suppose that's a good thing. So, are you sure you don't want to confess, or take Communion? I mean, I brought the wafers and the wine, so…."

"I'm sure," said Aaron with a bit of a smile.

"Well, do you want me to be there, at the…." Paulsen trailed off again.

"Execution?" finished Aaron after a moment had passed. "No, I would have to say definitely not."

_Why would I want you there? What, are you going to work some miracle to stop them from killing me? Oh, right, no, you're just going to help me get in to 'heaven.' Please. Just because my son turned out to be a little weakling who leans on mental crutches, don't think I am._

"Well, I guess this is good-bye, Aaron."

"Guess so."

November 3, 2005

11:51pm

Aaron finished off the last bite of his apple pie, and took the last sip of his beer. The cell door opened. He stood and strode confidently out the door. He walked down the hall steadily. The guards fell in around him almost deferentially.

"Dead man walking!" yelled the lead guard.

_I won't have these people telling everyone about how Aaron Echolls had to be dragged from his cell kicking and screaming. Have to let them know that I'm not afraid. Show them how a real man behaves._

They came to the execution chamber. Aaron sat down in the chair and relaxed as they strapped him in. The doctor attached sensors to his chest that would allow him to monitor Aaron's vital signs from outside the gas chamber. Then he and the guards filed out, sealing the door behind them.

Through the plexiglass front of the chamber, Aaron could see Warden Brown standing next to the man responsible for activating the chamber. A few paces to her right and towering over her was Jake Kane, who looked as though he had grown thinner in the last few months. There was a haunted look in his eyes.

_Jake, you don't look too well. I guess minimum security prison doesn't suit you so well. I'd have loved to see you in here._

Standing right in front, her face practically pressed up against the glass, was Veronica Mars, a smug grin on her face. Aaron grinned right back.

_Do you think I'm afraid, bitch?_

The warden gave the signal, and Aaron heard the gas start to flow in. He made a show of taking deep, steady breaths. After some moments had passed, he started to feel light-headed and even drowsy. He had to work to keep his eyes open. He also started to feel increasingly warm.

_Why is it so hot in here?_

Then he saw that Veronica's lips were moving. He could not have heard her through the plexiglass, of course, but she was not actually speaking aloud in any case, not wanting any of the others to hear the message she was mouthing to Aaron.

Aaron strained his eyes to make out what she was silently saying. For some reason he had to know what she was trying to tell him.

"Aaron…as the gas…starts to work…you'll start to feel drowsy and warm…."

_Yeah, so?_

"The sleepiness…is an effect…of the gas…but the heat…." Veronica shook her head with a grin.

It was then that Aaron began to struggle desperately against the leather restraints.

"No! No!" he cried out. Of course, no one could hear him, although they could all see his struggles. After a few moments longer, however, his struggles began to weaken, and then stop altogether.

"It's over," said the doctor, finally. "He's dead."

"Oh, it's only just begun," answered Veronica softly.

The end.


End file.
